The past path.

I’ll attempt to prove my idea that until we learn to seek God for all, our husbands (current and in our dreams) will only ever fall short. These poor husbands and husbands-to-be are walking around with ginormous shoes to fill. Cut them some slack. Marriage is awesome, or so I’ve been told. I’ve also been told it is stinkin’ hard work. What I know to be true, is that marriage is a gift from God. He saw that Adam was alone and it was not good. I believe Jack Johnson when he says, we’re better together. But for 25 years, I worshipped the ‘husband will fix all my issues’ idol. Waaa, waa, waaaaah. Update on the last yearish of my life, I did not pass Go and did not collect $200.

 

I remember one of my crying spells was triggered by a silly (but gorgeous) West Elm shelf. I tried to hang it myself and despite my efforts it turned out horribly. I dreamed of ending my night impressing myself with my wall creation and instead was left with gigantic holes in my wall that I have yet to repair. This, is clearly, a justifiable reason to yell at God. These holes are a reminder to me, that look as hard as you might, but you will not find a ‘man of the house’. How depressing?

 

My ex fiancé could change my breaks, remodel a house, and drive a boat… yet here I sit with a pot rack that I bought months ago and have yet to hang. Let’s not even talk about how hilarious it would’ve been to be a fly on the wall watching me take my 42” flat screen out of the box and hoist it on my entertainment center. I thought surely it would end with me spilling tears over a cracked screen. I’ll make my point. Men are handy. However what is completely false, is the lie that once I land one, we’ll run around like a ‘Sun Chip’ commercial. Life will be colorful,  we’ll smile a lot and always look good on camera.

 

 

I can remember getting dumped by a boy after three months of dating and feeling like my world was over. I drove home as quickly as I could, because let’s me honest… Moms make it better. But, my dad was the first to greet me. I laid it out for him and leaned back waiting for the puffying up to start. “You’re better than him. He doesn’t deserve you.” Instead I was met with a brutal… “You have too much baggage.” Again, previous example. Daddys are good for fixing cars, but maybe not so much lying to ease pain. Like salt to the wound, I probably cried harder and louder. But there is truth in it. Even the best of us, won’t dodge the baggage of this world.

 

Early boyfriends taught me that love was not a thing to be trusted in… even if they were clever enough to make me feel like I was the only girl. The lesson here was that boys cheat.

 

Another boyfriend believed I was a good thing, but it never seemed enough for him. No matter what I did to try and earn his love, there would always be someone better out there for him. The suitcase I picked up on that trip was packed full of insecurity.

 

There was an amazing man that traveled across my path. I needed him to fall hard and fast, but he definitely never got that same memo. He was everything I never knew I wanted. It’s unclear to me, if the real life boy even resembled the one I had built up in my head but tragically I wasn’t enough of something he was looking for. Because this boy drove away too. Now, I’ve got a carry-on full of ‘unworthiness” to add to my collection.

 

Another man, didn’t know how to show emotion and eventually I stopped asking it of him. Though, I wasn’t sure what I had done, I knew it had to be something awful for him to not want to have a relationship with me. And when I would seek him, I was sent away on a sailboat of annoyance. Earning his favor proved a lost cause.

 

The crown of this unlovable creation ends a few days from a wedding. I didn’t feel worthy of his pursuit. Desiring romance was a needy pest of a thing I needed to learn to live without. Followed painfully by a person shattering rejection.

 

These men left me with scars; some deeper and more painful than others… all of them costing me a fortune in baggage fees. I was taught by experience that I am forgettable. Love has only ever been a conditional thing in my life. Love is secretive. Love is jealous. Love is ugly and painful. There are definitely no happy endings in store, those are reserved for girls that don’t eat chocolate when times are tough.

 

The very worst of my fears came true. And it justified every single lie about myself I had ever believed.

 

Great news, God can’t tell a lie. And his version of me looks a lot different than theirs.

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